


to let me dangle at a cruel angle, oh, my feet don't touch the floor

by tea_at_twilight_time



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abuse, Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bed-Wetting, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Needs a Hug, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Whump, YEAH GUYS THIS ONE IS ROUGH, and the rape/sexual abuse isn't explicit, but it's there enough to warrant a tag, but then again i could be giving myself too much credit, engame jon/martin/tim/sasha with a focus on jon/martin, i just don't wanna catch anyone off guard, internalized ableism, jon is touch-starved as all fuck, maybe slightly more than canon-typical which truly is a feat, short jon rights. short jON RIGHTS. SHORT JON RIGHTS., tbh the agere stuff doesn't come in for a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24531535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_at_twilight_time/pseuds/tea_at_twilight_time
Summary: And with one kissYou inspired a fire of devotion that lasts for twenty yearsWhat kind of man loves like this?Jon is well aware of the fact that he's not qualified for this position. He's never even trained to be an archivist, barely even knows the first thing about the job. And he knows for a fact that at least one of his assistants are far more qualified for this than he is.But, it's what Elias wants. And Jon doesn't have the right to say no to him.Right?(Or; Elias gets Jon in over his head, which accidentally gets Jon some friends—as well as a way out.)
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Sasha James/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, but not for long and it's not healthy lmao
Comments: 136
Kudos: 301





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> /shoves myself onto the scene/ uhh so idk what this is hi! 
> 
> i don't really know what to put here other than to reiterate that as it says in the tags, none of the sexual abuse/rape will be graphic, but it will be heavily implied and discussed. if that's at all triggering for you, please feel free to click out of this fic. 
> 
> also! this fic is not beta read. i apologize for any mistakes, hopefully this is readable dklfjasjdklf

Jon’s hands won’t stop shaking. 

He shifts restlessly in his seat, pressing his fingers into his eyes and kicking his feet slightly, scraping them against the carpet of the car. A hand rests on his thigh, and he flinches, looking over at his driver with an embarrassed smile. 

“Jon,” Elias says simply, glancing sternly at him for a moment, before turning back to the road. 

“Sorry,” he says meekly, leaning back against the car seat and trying his damnedest to stay still. The hand on his thigh squeezes. 

“I know you’re nervous, dear, but that’s no reason to tear up my carpets.” 

“I know.” Jon squeezes his hands into fists, and then releases them. And then he does it again. “Sorry.” 

Elias’s fingers slither upwards on his leg, away from his knee, and start to rub little circles against his skin. “You’re going to be alright. You do know that, don’t you?” He sneaks another look at Jon, and Jon stares down more insistently at his lap. “I don’t understand why you’re fretting so much.” 

“Well, I’m not exactly qualified, am I?” Jon scoffs, a bitter, choked laugh escaping him. “I barely—I barely know what an archivist even _does_.” 

He regrets it the minute he says it. The hand moves away from his lap and rests instead on the back of his neck, squeezing tight, and his breathing stutters out for a minute. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says again, biting his lip. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

He looks up at Elias’s face, trying to assess his expression. It’s cool, purposefully blank. Jon holds his breath. 

Finally, Elias releases his grip, and he turns to Jon with a strained, unpleasant smile. “I know, Jon. I know. I just...I suppose I would’ve expected you to be more _grateful_ , is all.” 

“I am grateful!” Jon says quickly, all the wind rushing back into his lungs. “I’m sorry, I guess I never said it, th-thank you, I’m glad you got me this job, I just…” He sighs, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know if I can do it…” 

Elias pulls into a parking spot next to a nice, if a bit aged, building, the bricks slightly worn from their years. They’re not in a spot where the doors are visible, but Jon has seen the sign above them enough to know what it looks like—glossy, black with white lettering, proudly announcing _The Magnus Institute_. They’re here, finally, at Elias’s—at _their_ place of work.

Elias turns to Jon with that smile from before, but it has softened a bit, looking a little less forced. He grabs one of his trembling hands in his own tightly. “You _can_ ,” he says firmly. “You can and you _will_. I won’t have you disappointing me, Jon. Understood?” 

Despite the threat in his words, Elias’s voice is soft, and his thumb rubs little circles against Jon’s skin. Jon relaxes a bit, swallowing down a lump in his throat. 

“I understand,” he says softly, looking down at their hands. Then, something hot and intense surges in his chest, pricking at the corners of his eyes. “I, um, I really am sorry. I love you.” 

“Oh, Jon.” 

Elias leans in, and Jon wonders if this is going to be a short, chaste, fatherly kiss, or a cloying, seductive, messy kiss. He braces himself for the worst, but Elias’s lips land on his forehead, warm and soft, and he leans in instinctively at the touch. 

This makes Elias smile, and he runs his fingers through Jon’s hair loosely. “I love you too,” he murmurs into his hairline. “My sweet Jon.” 

Jon exhales shakily, willing the stinging behind his eyes away. “You really think I’ll be fine?” he asks softly. 

“Hmm. I suppose we’ll see,” Elias says, not unkindly. He pulls away, but not after pressing one more soft kiss to Jon’s lips. “However, we should be getting on our way now, yes? We don’t want to be late to your first day of work, after all.” 

“Y-yeah, of course,” Jon says quickly, pulling away despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to _hold on_. He reaches for his seat belt, but Elias’s hand is already there, unbuckling it for him, and Jon smiles awkwardly at him in thanks. 

He waits for Elias to come around to his side of the car and open the door for him, because he knows that’s what he wants from him. Elias offers his hand and he takes it, letting him help him out of his seat. 

“A-are we going to hold hands on our way inside?” Jon asks, a bubble of panic rising in his stomach. What would his coworkers think? His new assistants? He’s supposed to be their boss, right? God, what is he even _doing_ here? 

“No, no, of course not,” Elias chastises, dropping his hand as soon as Jon is steady on his feet. “Come along, now, though. We have introductions to make.” He turns firmly on his heel and heads toward the entrance, and Jon hesitates for a moment before trailing behind like a baby duck.

His hands are shaking again. He shoves them in his pockets, squeezes his eyes shut, and sets his shoulders back. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. 

He pauses in the doorway, and takes in a deep breath. 

And then he takes a step forward, ignoring the way the room spins around him when he crosses the threshold. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally meets his assistants. It goes about as awkwardly as you can imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i uhh. i don't know how british people talk about tea and i'm too lazy to look it up cuz i figured google wouldn't give me a straight answer so don't @ me about that hasldfkjasdklf 
> 
> ngl this chapter?? was kind of a struggle?? i'm still not 100% certain if i like where it's at but i think if i keep fiddling with it it'll be stuck in WIP hell forever so. 
> 
> alright, well. here we go i guess?? :'D

Jon’s new assistants seem nice, even if he’s sure they’re not quite happy with him being there. They all smile politely, shake his hand, and Jon hopes they can’t tell how sweaty his palms are, or how badly they shake. 

Unfortunately, he thinks one of them—Martin, the tall, round, unbearably soft looking one—does notice, given the odd, worried look he gives him as he takes his hand. Jon decides not to think about it too much, and tries to shoo away his concern with a slight frown.

There’s also Sasha (tall, smells flowery, has nice freckles) and Tim (tall, sturdy, _very_ handsome—all of these people are so tall, goddammit), whose smiles are both somewhat tense. They make Jon feel intensely guilty, like he’s taking something from them. Hell, maybe he is. From what he can tell, they’ve been here for a while, and he’s just some _idiot_ who was brought onto the scene because his—because _Elias_ offered to help get him a new job. He has to bite back the urge to apologize as he says his hellos to them, a pit forming in his stomach as he speaks. 

“I-it’s good to meet you all,” he says, and a part of him feels weirdly small looking at all of them. And not just in the physical sense, though of course that doesn’t exactly help. An embarrassing part of him wants to duck behind Elias and peek at them from safety, but he can practically feel the punishment he would receive for being so pathetic, so he refrains. 

Tim and Sasha murmur their agreements, and Sasha gives him a soft smile. Martin says, “It’s good to meet you, too!” with his impossibly warm voice, and Jon’s knees start to wobble. 

Elias claps his hands together, and Jon flinches at the sound. “Well! That’s all that for introductions, then,” he says, laying a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Jon, I’m sure you can take it from here.” 

Wait, _huh_? Jon whips around and faces him, eyes blown wide, face turning ashy as the blood rushes from it. “You’re leaving me? Now?” he asks, his voice cracking. He hates that it does, because when Elias turns to look at him, his expression is very displeased. 

“Why, yes Jon. I am,” he says tersely, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “You genuinely didn’t expect me to stay with you and _hold your hand_ , did you?” 

Jon flinches, ducking his his head to stare pointedly at an undefined spot in the carpet. “W-well, no, of course not,” he whispers, biting back the urge to whine. “I-I just...I just thought you would at least tell me what I’m supposed to be doing here…” 

“Ah! Well, that’s what your assistants are for,” he says, gesturing to the three strangers in front of him. “In fact, Sasha, you were trained to work as an archivist for a time, weren’t you?”

Sasha’s brow is furrowed, her face all scrunched up. She shifts uncomfortably, crossing her arms over her chest. “Uh...yeah. Yeah, I...I was.” 

Jon’s heart sinks in his chest, and he squirms uncomfortably at this new information. _Taking something away, indeed._

Thankfully, Elias does not seem to notice. “Excellent. Then I’m sure you’ll have no trouble showing Jon the ropes, then?” 

Sasha blinks. “I—” 

“Great.” 

Elias doesn’t give her time to respond, merely claps his hands together again. Jon feels his legs trembling, and he nearly tips over when Elias’s hand falls on his shoulder once more and squeezes _hard_. 

“Now, don’t mess this up, Jon. I’ll be seeing you at lunch to check up, yes?” 

Once again, he doesn’t give any time for a response. He simply releases his shoulder and leaves, letting the door fall shut behind him. 

For a moment, everything is quiet. Jon trembles under the weight of his coworkers’ stares, his legs feeling like jelly underneath him. This isn’t the first time Elias has left him alone with people he doesn’t know, and rarely does it end well for him. He holds his breath, braces himself, and waits to see if they descend on him. 

They don’t. Not right away, at least. But Tim does scowl and throw up a hand in exasperation. 

“...he didn’t tell you he wanted you to train him, did he?” he says, voice incredulous and bitter. 

Jon looks away, clutching at his arm and digging his nails into his skin. “S-sorry,” he stutters, and immediately he kicks himself. _Stupid. So stupid. What would Elias say if he could see him like this?_

Tim huffs, but his gaze softens. Odd, Jon thinks, but doesn’t voice. 

“What, for Elias’s behavior?” Sasha asks, and despite everything, her voice is so _kind_. “Oh, he’s always like that. Let’s head down to the archives and I’ll show you around, okay?” 

Jon looks up at her and nods mutely, deciding not to mention that he knows exactly how Elias can be. He swallows a few times, struggling to find his voice again, to give her some sort of verbal acknowledgment.

“R-really?” is what he manages to say. And then he winces, because everyone’s looking at him funny, and _oh my god he’s supposed to be their boss, what the fuck?_

“Well, yeah,” Sasha says, awkwardly playing with a strand of her hair. “I mean, it’s not ideal, but we still have to work to do, right? I don’t think Elias would be happy if we just stood around talking all day…” 

Right. That’s right. Elias is still a factor here. Jon takes a deep breath and moves to follow her, before pausing, turning to look at Tim and Martin behind them. 

“Wh—um. What about them?” he asks, instinctively reaching and tugging on Sasha’s sleeve to get her attention. “They should probably...have something to…” 

He almost immediately realizes what he’s done, and he swears to god the room just got a thousand degrees hotter. He drops his hand and coughs, rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“Uh. Sorry.” 

Sasha, to her credit, doesn’t seem that phased, so maybe he hadn’t looked as childish as he felt. She gives him a look, before smiling warmly, turning to glance at the two men behind him again. 

“No, you’re right,” she says, something twinkling in her eyes. “We should give them something to do.” 

Tim blinks, before tucking his hands behind his back and whistling innocently. Martin straightens up a bit, shyly rubbing his hands together. 

“I could...I could make us all some tea?” Martin says, smiling anxiously and shifting from foot to foot. “How do you take your tea, Jon?” 

“Um…I like it with a bit of honey,” Jon says, doing some shifting of his own. “With the tea bag still in the mug. If that’s not too much.” 

He can feel his heart thudding in his chest as he speaks, wondering if he’s being too needy, if he’s gonna upset Martin with his request. Martin just smiles, though, and nods. 

“That’s absolutely fine!” he says. He turns to the others, “Sasha, Tim, the usual…?” 

The two of them murmur their agreement. Martin smiles, and gives another slight nod. 

“Alright then!” he says. “I’ll bring it down to the archives for you when it’s ready.”

“You can bring mine to my desk,” Tim says, shoving his hands casually in his pockets. “I have some...important work to do. On the computer.” 

Sasha squints at him. “Do you?” 

Tim scoffs, throwing up his hands in mock offense. “I do!” he cries, sounding scandalized. “What, you don’t believe me?” 

“Hmm.” Sasha tilts her head at him, before smiling a little. “It’s not that, it’s just...we could really use someone down there to help staple things...” 

“Oh, I could help with that,” Martin offers, waving his hands slightly. “I mean, I’ll need something to do, preparing the tea won’t take too long…” 

“Yeah, see? You guys have a Martin, you’ll be fine.” 

Martin and Sasha laugh a little at that, and Jon smiles timidly, not sure if he’s allowed to join in. It’s all a bit...odd to him. They all seem to be comfortable with each other, or at least on friendly terms, and all he can really do is watch in fascination. The only times he’s been around people in the past couple years who would smile and laugh at each other _almost_ like this were at the stuffy parties Elias would drag him to, and...well… 

...Jon doesn’t want to think about those. 

“Well,” Tim says, clapping his hands together and bringing Jon back to the present. “I suppose we should get on our separate ways then. Sasha. Martin.” He turns to Jon, and his gaze hardens slightly, but not in a way that’s necessarily unfriendly. Just firm. “Boss. I’ll be seeing you.” 

Jon nods weakly, the dizziness from earlier returning. A hand lands gently on his arm, and he jolts, turning to see Sasha smiling apologetically at him. 

“Sorry, Jon, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she says, before hesitantly offering her elbow to him. “Do you...would you like me to lead you down there?” 

Jon swallows, before nodding, gently slipping his hand into the crook of her arm. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to flinch.” 

“Okay, mate, you have to stop apologizing,” she says, even as she pats his hand comfortingly. “It’s alright, really. I’m not upset at you, I promise.” 

Jon swallows, thinking about that for a moment. He really feels like she should be, despite her assurances. He hasn’t even been here an hour and he’s already been such a nuisance, just by being here, just by _existing_. 

He decides not to say that, though, not wanting her to feel bad. “Okay,” he says softly, giving her arm a slight squeeze. 

She smiles back at him, giving his hand a light pat. 

She leads him to a dark door labeled with simple black lettering: _ARCHIVES_. It swings open to reveal a staircase, dark and old, illuminated by a single lightbulb. Jon prays to god his shaking doesn’t get the best of him, not wanting to slip as they start their journey downwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know jon's a bit more subdued toward his coworkers than he is in canon but i think that's somewhat reasonable given that the circumstances in his life are different when he meets them? like we'll definitely get to see snarky old man baby jon pop up eventually when he gets to be more comfortable but right now he's very much aware of how unprepared he is to be an archivist and he's, well. with elias rn so you can imagine the kinda strain that takes on his self esteem. idk i've agonized a LOT over characterization in this chapter not just with jon but with everyone really so let me know what y'all think hasdfklajsdfkl 
> 
> in other, better news! i've FINALLY remade my writing blog and i hope to actually like,, use it this time? :'D it's at [twi-writes](https://twi-writes.tumblr.com/) so feel free to yell at me there about headcanons and stuff, my inbox is open!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally starts his training. He has a bit of a rough time with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay SO i kinda realized i never mentioned this and i don't really have a better place to put this (tags, maybe? idk) but i should probably let it be known that this is a no supernatural stuff, no fears au. which might be kind of disappointing and i'm sorry adflkajsdflk originally this was gonna be more canon based but then i realized that doing that would kinda,, back me into a corner. i mean, fuck, it's hard enough escaping an abuser when they're NOT an immortal bastard who can see basically everything, i just wanted to give poor jon a chance :( 
> 
> however this did write me into a different corner because i then realized i had to learn what an actual archivist really does and i hadsflkjsdkfl. uhh i don't think it'll play too much into this fic (or at least. i hope not) since the focus is more on the relationship drama but yeahhh if any actual archivists are reading this, 1) oh hi what the fuck? and 2) i'm. sorry. i really did mean to put more research into it but my brain wasn't absorbing the information properly and i just am not willing to put that much effort into a self indulgent fic I'M SORRY 
> 
> okay, anyway! with that out of the way! let's jump into it!

Somehow, Jon makes it down the rickety old stairs without falling. It's a miracle, really, given how bad his legs are trembling. Maybe it's due to Sasha’s sturdy presence, his hold on her keeping him steady enough to make it down there without making a scene. 

He doesn’t let go of her as she shows him around the room, even though it’s relatively small and there is very little chance of them getting separated. It’s just nice to be able to hold onto someone, he supposes, the warmth of her skin through her cardigan keeping him grounded. 

Is that creepy? It probably is. The guilt hits him quickly, and he considers dropping his hand, but then Sasha is turning to face him, her hand coming to rest over his. 

“Any questions so far…?” she asks, tilting her head a bit. “You’ve been kinda quiet…” 

Jon stares down at her hand for a moment in wide-eyed surprise, before looking up at her. “Um…” 

Sasha’s brow furrows, her face caught somewhere between amused and concerned. He must look pretty silly. He coughs, and tries to arrange his face into something more normal looking. 

“I-I’m fine, it’s a small room...I think I’ll get used to where everything is quickly. Th-thank you,” he says, doing his best not to mumble. _Enunciate, Jon, enunciate. Don’t disappoint me now._

“That’s true,” Sasha says, shooting a glance around the room. She sighs, jerking her head in the direction of the desk. “I suppose I should start showing you what you’re going to be doing…?” 

“Yeah…” Jon says, but he doesn’t make any attempt to move. He looks up at Sasha, hoping that he doesn’t look too pathetic as he meets her eyes. Then, he immediately looks down at the brooch on her chest, unable to bear the contact anymore. “I really am sorry he asked you to train me. It wasn’t...I don’t want to burden you…” 

“I don’t understand why you’re apologizing for things that aren’t your fault. And you are _not_ a burden,” she says, but her voice is gentle rather than chiding, which kind of catches him off guard. One of her fingers taps the back of his hand, and she hums. “Kind of a bastard, isn’t he? Elias, I mean.” 

Jon’s chest tightens, and he’s not sure what the feeling is. A part of him wants to defend him, after all, Elias is _good_ to him, he takes _care_ of him, even though he’s such a pathetic handful. 

But it’s easy to see why Sasha would be frustrated with him. Hell, Jon gets frustrated at him sometimes too, even when it’s not really fair. And honestly, this _is_ a fair thing to be upset at him for—Sasha hadn’t been warned beforehand that she’d have to train him, and well, Jon is well aware of how obnoxious he is. Anyone would be peeved in this situation, he knows that well enough. Has experienced it firsthand, even. 

“I-I’m sure he has his reasons for doing this,” he says uncertainly, biting his lip as he tries to formulate his thoughts. “He always has his reasons. Even if they’re not obvious.” 

“Oh? Uh…” Sasha tilts her head at him. “Have you...worked with Elias before?” 

Sasha’s voice isn’t accusing, merely curious, but it’s still enough to make Jon’s stomach drop. He’s not sure what to say. What would Elias want his coworkers to know about their relationship? Would he be mad if he told her they were together? That they know each other? 

Maybe it’s best he stays vague. “I-I’ve interacted with him a couple times,” he says, swallowing thickly and turning his gaze away. Is that vague enough? Does that even make sense? _Shit._

Sasha opens her mouth, as if to ask for clarification, and Jon already is sure he doesn’t know what to say to her. 

Fortunately, she’s interrupted by the door opening, Martin entering with three mugs in his hands. He takes one look at the two of the two of them, his face wrinkling, and Jon feels his face heat as he realizes he’s just standing there, clinging to Sasha’s arm. And she’s just kind of letting him, for some reason. 

He looks up at her for permission, starting to pull his hand away. “Ah, sorry, can I—I’m gonna help Martin—” 

“Yeah, of course.” Sasha releases him immediately, taking her hand off his and pulling her arm away. Just as easily as she let him hold her arm, she just...let him go. 

Jon’s still reeling from this as he rushes up to Martin, awkwardly taking his tea from him. Martin, for his part, gives him a smile, looking a little flustered himself. 

“You uh...it’s fine, you know?” he says, shifting the mugs so he’s holding one in each hand. “It’s not too hard to carry three mugs, really…” Then, he grimaces, seeming to realize how that might come off. “Thank you, though!” 

Jon nods mutely, cradling the mug in his hands. “You’re...welcome,” he says, shuffling his feet. He feels kind of stupid right now, but he can’t quite pinpoint why. He huffs, spinning on his heel and rushing over to the desk, collapsing into the chair in front of it. 

He busies himself with looking at the papers already on the desk while Martin brings Sasha her tea, trying to make sense of what he’s looking at. Absentmindedly, he takes a sip of his own drink. 

The taste of it gives him pause. For a moment, he stares fervently down at his mug, wondering if Martin is some sort of wizard. 

“...Jon?” Martin asks, apparently noticing this. “Is it...is it alright?” 

Jon looks up at him, taking note of Martin’s frown. He nods quickly, hoping to soothe any feelings of distress before they can turn into something...less manageable. 

“It’s really good,” he says quietly, looking from Martin to Sasha and back again. “Really, really good. Thank you.” 

Martin smiles, relief flooding his face, and Jon swallows thickly, relief of his own spreading through him. He didn’t even have to lie. That had to count for something, right? 

“Tea brewing is one of Martin’s most valuable talents,” Sasha says, her voice interrupting his thoughts. “I honestly don’t know what we’d do without him.” 

“I-it’s nothing, really!” Martin laughs softly, waving his free hand slightly. “Um, you said you had some files for me to staple…?” 

“Oh, right! Yeah, they’re in the other room,” she says, jerking her head toward the other door, not leading to the stairs. “I can go grab them for you, if you’d like?” 

“Uh, yeah, sure!” Martin says, and he looks over at Jon, giving him a tiny smile. “I won’t bother you guys if I do the stapling in here? That won’t be distracting?” 

Jon feels himself shrink a bit under Martin’s gaze, but he takes another sip of his tea while he’s looking. He doesn’t plan on drinking it all at once, since he knows that can cause, er...problems for him, but he wants Martin to know he likes it. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” he says quietly, kicking his feet. He really doesn’t mind, but even if he did, it doesn’t feel right to him to say anything about it. After all, it’s not like he really has a choice, right? “I-I think it would be fine.” 

“I don’t mind either,” Sasha says with a smile, resting her hand on the back of Jon’s chair for a moment, his hair brushing against her knuckles. “I’ll bring a chair for you too, with the files.” She hums, and her hand is no longer behind Jon’s head. “I’ll be back in a moment, boys.” 

She leaves the room, and Jon and Martin are alone. Jon takes another sip of his tea and smiles shyly, a bundle of nerves settling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Hi,” Jon says, not sure what else to say. 

Martin flushes, and he mumbles, “Hi” back. 

The silence they sit in is not quite uncomfortable, but Jon can’t help but feel uneasy still, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knows he’s being ridiculous, these aren’t Elias’s _friends_ , they probably won’t be like them, but once again, Elias was the one who picked them. He doesn’t know what they’re capable of, not really. 

It’s a relief when Sasha comes back into the room, setting up a place at the end of the desk for Martin. Jon watches them bustle around, making mild conversation, and he suddenly feels very much like a child watching the adults do important work around him. He tries to shake himself out of it, tries to regain some sense of dignity here, but he can already feel that fuzzy static trying to pervade the rest of his brain. 

Sasha pulls up a chair next to him, and he feels absolutely ridiculous, struggling not to do something stupid like flap his hands or bounce in his seat. 

“Can, can I...um…” he starts to say, but then he realizes he has no idea what he wants. He debates asking to use the restroom, but the thought makes his face hot with embarrassment, so he just shakes his head. “Can we start?” 

Sasha smiles at him affectionately, and she nods, scooting a little closer to him. “Yeah, of course!” 

Jon smiles faintly, and he leans closer to her. The static is still there, but it’s easier to manage, Sasha’s guidance letting him lean into it without slipping too far into...childlike dependence. He settles into his chair, and tries his best to pay attention. 

* * *

“Do you think you’re starting to get it?” 

Jon puffs out his cheeks, his fingers trembling slightly as he clutches tightly to the paper in his hands. “I think so,” he says quietly, and he hates how tight his voice is. 

If he’s being completely honest, he’s a bit overwhelmed by it all. Who knew that being an archivist was so...complicated? He squirms uncomfortably, putting down the paper and shoving his knuckle in between his teeth. 

Sasha frowns and sets her hand on the table, and for some reason Jon finds it to be a very maternal gesture. “Jon, do you...do you have _any_ experience in archiving? Any training prior to this?” 

Oh, now he really wants to cry. He looks up at her guiltily, before turning his gaze back down to his lap. “No,” he says quietly, curling his fist close to his mouth. He’s allowed to tell her that, right? “I—no. Sorry.” 

Her frown deepens, and she shifts uncomfortably. He inhales sharply, his nerves forming a lump in his throat, moving down to his stomach, sinking, sinking, until… 

“Um…” he interrupts her as she opens her mouth to speak, subtly crossing his legs and squeezing his thighs together. “Can I excuse myself?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Sasha says quickly, waving her hand soothingly. Her eyes look conflicted, however, and he almost keeps his ass in his seat, waiting for her to shout at him, or something. 

However, he’s well aware that it would end disastrously. He stands up and finds Martin looking at him with concern, so he shoots him an attempt at a comforting smile before rushing off to the restroom. 

As he’s washing his hands, he manages to catch his reflection in the mirror. He looks...tiny and disheveled, the suit Elias put him in unbearably stuffy and far too formal to be on the likes of _him_. Loose strands of hair stick to his forehead, shiny with sweat, and there are dark bags under his eyes, remnants of a night spent tossing and turning that had lasted up until Elias had grabbed him and physically pinned him down to the mattress. 

_Jon. That’s enough. We both need our sleep, can’t you understand that?_

He quickly rushes off to dry his hands, unable to bear his reflection anymore, and he finds himself staring down into the trash can distantly. A fit of tears hits him, and he does his best to scrub them away, even as more come to take their place. A sickening, deeply embedded part of him wishes he were dead right now, so that he didn’t have to deal with this. He knows it’s not right, that if he told Elias how he felt that he’d scold him for being so selfish, but everything about this is just too _much_. 

What did Sasha do to deserve this? Elias knows how annoying he can be, especially when he doesn’t understand something, so why would he thrust him on her like this? Jon had tried his best not to pester her with too many questions, but he genuinely has no idea what he’s supposed to be doing, doesn’t get all the intricacies of archiving. He understands, vaguely, that he’s dealing with documents, very old and sensitive documents, but which ones are important? Where is he supposed to put them? Why the _hell_ is he here? 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, scrubbing at the tears and snot on his face. He _should_ be grateful for this opportunity, but he just feels really, really...scared. Out of his depth. 

Somehow, he manages to calm himself down, wiping the last of the yuck away with a paper towel. He tries to make himself look presentable and breathes in shakily, before forcing himself to walk out of the restroom and back down to the archives. 

Sasha is still sitting there, looking over some papers with a thoughtful look on her face. Her expression quickly turns to concern as she looks up at his face, though, and he looks away self consciously. 

“Jon? Are you okay?” Martin asks, and Jon forces himself to look at him and smile. 

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” 

“You just…” Martin makes a strangled noise, and he looks at Sasha. 

She frowns, and her gaze feels piercing, though not in the same way Elias’s does. It doesn’t feel so judgmental. “You just...look a bit tired, is all.” 

_We can tell you’ve been crying,_ is what he's pretty sure they mean. Great, not only has he exposed himself as an underqualified idiot who doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s also now the office crybaby. He glares down at his mostly empty mug and fantasizes briefly about shrinking small enough to curl up at the bottom of it, drowning himself in what’s left in there. 

“Jon. Hey. Can you look at me?” 

He manages a brief glance at Sasha, but meeting her gaze makes him uncomfortable. He downs the rest of his tea before once again trying to look her in the face, having somewhat more success this time, even if he has to pointedly look at parts of it that aren’t her eyes. 

She doesn’t get mad at him for it, or yell at him, or grab his chin and force his head up. So that’s nice. 

“I know...um. I think both of us are in uncharted territory right now,” she says, her voice slow, thoughtful. “And I don’t think either of us are comfortable with this situation. I know I have my own…my own feelings about all of this. But please know that I’m not holding any of them against _you_.” 

Jon’s breath hitches. He looks back down at his lap, opening his mouth to say something in response, before thinking better of it and closing it again. 

She smiles softly, and she lets her hand hover his own, where it’s resting on the desk, silently asking for permission. He considers it for a moment, before lifting his hand to knock against her palm. She rests her hand over his, and it sends a shiver through his spine. 

“I want to help you, Jon,” she says softly, “for both of our sakes. I’m not going to let you drown here.” 

Jon swallows thickly, the backs of his eyes stinging. Dammit, he doesn’t want to cry again. He _won’t_ cry again. “Okay,” he says softly, biting his lip. “Th-thank you. I-I’ll do my best for you, too, I promise.” 

He looks up at Sasha again, at her warm face and her sad eyes. He chews his lip, looking over at Martin. 

Martin straightens up a little as their eyes meet, and he smiles gently at him, putting down the papers he’s currently stapling. 

“Would you guys like some fresh cups of tea?” he asks softly, drumming his fingers against the desk. 

“You—you don’t have to do that—” Jon starts, but Martin shakes his head and gets to his feet. 

“No, no, it’s no issue, no issue at all!” he says, gathering up his, Sasha’s, and Jon’s mugs. “It’s what I’m here for, after all.” 

“Not true. You’re also here to staple papers,” Jon says lamely, giving him a lopsided smile. Then, he winces, and starts to apologize. “I—” 

Martin giggles, though, and Sasha chuckles softly. Jon’s shoulders slump in relief, and his smile turns a bit brighter. 

“Well, you’re right about that, I suppose,” Martin says, letting out another little laugh. He makes his way to the door, pausing to say, “I’ll be back!” before heading out of the archives. 

Sasha squeezes Jon’s hand, before standing up, still holding on. “C’mon. Let me show you how to archive something, demonstrate how it works.” 

Jon hesitates, before getting to his feet, squeezing back. “You’re um...you’re touching…” He makes a _hrmph_ noise, his brow crinkling as he tries to figure out how to say what he’s trying to say. “...you’re letting me hold onto you a lot.” 

“Oh.” Sasha looks embarrassed, her grip loosening. “I could...stop? I just...er. I thought...you seemed more comfortable when you were holding my arm.” 

Jon’s face turns hot, and he covers his face shyly. “Um, no, you don’t have to stop. It—it’s nice,” he says, turning his gaze to their hands. 

This _is_ fine, right? Elias won’t be mad at him for this, right? 

“Uh...I’m fine now, though,” he says shakily, hesitating for a moment before letting go of her hand. “Th-thank you, but I’m—I’m okay.” 

Sasha gives him an odd look, tilting her head at him. He shifts uncomfortably, feeling like she’s regarding him carefully, treating him like a puzzle that’s she’s starting to piece together. 

“Sorry,” she says, seeming to notice the discomfort in his face. “I—sorry. Yeah, that’s fine! You’re absolutely fine.” 

Jon ducks his head, and he nods, fidgeting awkwardly with his fingers. “Um, thank you,” he says quietly. “C-can we…?” 

“Yeah!” Sasha says, her gaze turning serious, but her smile’s still _so_ soft. “Let’s get on with it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *john mulaney voice* i will now pepper in the fact that elias has abused and traumatized jon in horrible ways 
> 
> also!! tried to set some stuff up here for the age regression in future chapters, baby jon is real and he will be Here because I Love Him. 
> 
> as usual, let me know what you guys think, and feel free to yell at me at my blog twi-writes, haha


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has his meeting with Elias. 
> 
> And then, Sasha shows him some cats. Her cats. They're very cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the chapter where i apologize because jon and elias's relationship is a lot more complicated and way grosser than what the jon/elias tag can convey so uh. yeah prepare yourselves for some squick. i swear we'll get jon away from him eventually afdhklasjdfkl 
> 
> also WOW this chapter was a bitch to write?? i thought it would be easier because i'd already had part of it written while writing chapter three (oops lmao) but idk man it kind of got away from me. i got really stuck on the latter half of it but i didn't just want to leave it with what i had because it felt kinda wrong to me to have the chapter just be jon being emotionally and sexually abused y'know? 
> 
> which reminds me, HEAVY trigger warning for non graphic rape in this chapter. nothing is explicitly described and jon's kind of out of it the whole scene but it could still potentially be triggering so i wanted to give a heads up. 
> 
> alright, i think i got everything out of the way, so let's get on with it!

Sasha continues to show him the process of archiving up until lunchtime. 

It’s weird. Despite how nervous being around them makes him, Jon is kind of sad to leave her and Martin for his lunchtime check in. They’re just...so kind to him, in a way that most people Elias introduces him to aren’t. He knows that’s probably more out of obligation than anything, given the professional setting they’re in, but it’s still really, really...nice, and it kind of makes his chest ache. It would’ve been kind of fun, he thinks, to have lunch with them, maybe start to get to know them better. 

But Jon had promised Elias he would meet with him. So, meet with him is what he’s doing. 

His hands are shaking slightly as he enters Elias’s office, and he decides to attribute it to leftover nerves from the morning. Even though Sasha had been so, so lovely to him, meeting new people and learning a new job (one that he is, needless to say, incredibly underprepared for) is still a bit overwhelming. He’s happy to see Elias again, to be able to spend time with his...

...well, he’s not quite sure what to call what Elias is to him, actually. 

It feels wrong to call him his boyfriend. That implies a lot of things about their relationship that really aren’t quite accurate. Yes, they kiss sometimes, and yes, they ah... _sleep together_ sometimes, but it feels wrong to call it romantic. There are plenty of times where Elias kisses him chastely, or holds him in a way that feels platonic, even fatherly. The other times are just...touches Jon tries not to think about too much. It’s almost funny, because when Jon first met him, he’d genuinely thought that Elias just wanted to be a mentor or a father figure to him. It’s silly now, of course, obviously the signs were there that he wanted something else too, but Jon had really started to think of him as a surrogate dad. Still does, in some ways, but Elias can make that pretty difficult. 

Sometimes it feels like things haven’t changed from their first interactions, though. The hug Elias gives him when he steps through the door is warm and paternal, and a welcome relief from the stresses of the day. Jon can’t help but relax a little, slumping easily into the embrace with a sigh. Elias holds him close for a good few moments, swaying him slightly and running his fingers through his hair. 

But then he pulls away to drag him into a kiss, hot and possessive, his tongue sliding easily into his mouth. Despite the nausea in his belly, Jon does his best to return it properly, trying to summon some passion from somewhere deep in his gut. Elias does hate it when he slacks off, and Jon knows better than to disappoint him by now. 

When he finally pulls away, Elias smiles and cups his cheeks. “Hello Jon,” he says, rubbing his thumbs over his skin. “It’s good to see you again.” 

Jon smiles, nuzzling his face into Elias’s palms. “Hi Elias,” he says, a little breathlessly. He’s not sure if he’s meant to say anything else, so he just lets himself sink into the touch, his eyes drooping closed. 

Elias holds him like that for a moment, and Jon can feel his gaze on him, regarding him with a careful eye. Then, slowly, he draws away, beckoning Jon to the desk. 

“Come now. Let’s have something to eat, shall we?” 

Jon sits down, settling in the chair across from him. He wonders what Elias brought him for lunch today, and his question is answered when a takeout box from the expensive Chinese place down the road is placed in front of him. 

“Thank you, Elias,” he says reflexively, kicking his legs a little under the desk. 

“You’re welcome, dear. Now, stop kicking and eat. I did schedule an hour for us, but that’s no reason for you to dilly dally.” 

“Right. Right, sorry!” Jon hastily grabs his fork and sets to eating, trying his damnedest to be quick about it. Elias does want him to make haste. 

However, he must’ve misunderstood, and the sight of him scarfing down food must be amusing because Elias chuckles softly at him and clicks his tongue. 

“Jon. We’re not in _that_ much of a hurry. Relax.” 

“R-right,” Jon says again, after he’s managed to swallow down a bite he was dangerously close to choking on. “Right, s-sorry…” 

Elias chuckles again. “You sure are something, aren’t you, love? What would you do without me?” 

“I-I dunno. Probably nothing good, I-I’m kind of a mess...” Jon mutters, his face turning hot. He smiles in embarrassment, turning his attention back to his food. 

“Precisely,” Elias says, and Jon winces. “Well, while we’re here, how about you tell me about how your day went so far?” 

Jon perks up at that. “U-um, Sasha was um...she was teaching me how to archive!” he says, before wincing again. 

“Well, good. That is what she was meant to do, after all.” 

“Y-yeah,” Jon says, feeling babyish, though he’s not quite sure why. “She’s really nice…” 

Elias’s eyebrows raise, which is kind of weird. “Oh. Well, that’s good. That’s wonderful, even,” he says, but he doesn’t sound convincing. 

Jon bites his lip. There’s a weird feeling settling over the room, and he doesn’t like it. It’s making him feel uneasy, and he shifts in his seat, picking at his food. 

“Um...Sasha asked if we knew each other.” 

He’d only said it because he couldn’t think of anything else to bring up, but he immediately regrets it. Elias’s face flickers into something tense, then amused. Jon swallows. 

“Really now?” he says, sounding mildly interested. By now, though, Jon can detect the undercurrent of something unpleasant in his tone. “What did you tell her?” 

“I-I just said we’ve met a couple times before...i-it wasn’t anything too revealing, I swear.” 

“Hmm.” Elias’s face doesn’t change, and Jon can feel panic rising up in him. 

“I-I didn’t tell her about our relationship! I just...she noticed that we had some sort of history, so I...I dunno...I told her something I thought sounded right...” 

He trails off lamely, trying to ignore the way his hands shake. He squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers, whispering out an “I’m sorry” in hopes of quelling Elias’s brewing anger. 

Elias continues to stare at him for a moment, before finally his face smoothes out. His smile turns into something less tense and disappointed, almost pleasant, even. 

“Well, I suppose that’s a decent enough answer. They’re going to figure out we know each other eventually,” Elias says lightly, returning to his meal. “Do try to be more careful with your words, though, Jon. You don’t want to give them the wrong idea, now.” 

“O-okay,” Jon says softly, pushing his food around in his take out container. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Elias says, and his voice is soft in a way that sends chills down Jon’s spine. 

They finish eating in silence. Jon feels ill, but he finishes the meal anyway, because he knows Elias would be upset with him for wasting food. By the end of it, his stomach aches, feeling far too full, and he closes his eyes and rests his head on the desk. 

“Why so glum, dear?” Elias says, and Jon can hear him get out of his chair and make his way over to him. He rubs his back gently, and the touch is both soothing and electrifying. “Come on, now. You’re halfway through your first day of work. You should be more proud of yourself.” 

“I should…?” Jon lifts his head, his brow furrowing. He takes a deep breath, his stomach starting to settle a little. 

Elias leans down and kisses him, soft and gentle. “Of course,” he murmurs, his other hand coming up to pet his hair, holding him in a loose sort of embrace. 

Jon bites his lip, dropping his head against Elias’s shoulder. He’s used to Elias’s odd shifts in moods, and right now he’s just relieved that he’s being warm to him once again. He likes it when Elias says nice things to him, it’s just...he doesn’t always earn it. 

“You think I’m doing good?” Jon asks, looking up at Elias from against his shoulder. 

“You’re doing _wonderfully_ , dearest,” Elias croons, and Jon beams, a surge of pride blooming in his chest. Elias chuckles, pressing kisses to his face that make Jon’s skin tingle. 

They stay like that for a moment. But then, suddenly, Elias is moving, shifting Jon’s chair and getting down on his knees in front of him. Jon frowns, looking down at him questioningly. 

“I think you deserve a reward for your efforts, yes?” Elias says, and suddenly his hands are on his zipper, and—

Oh. 

_Oh._

Jon’s face falls, fighting every urge in him to bolt out of the room. “No...Elias, not at work, you said, you—you _promised_...” 

“Promised what, Jon?” Elias asks, smooth as always. 

“Promised that you would...ah...” Jon’s mouth is suddenly, _painfully_ dry, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “You said we’d keep it professional here...” 

“Hmm. Well. Who said this wasn’t part of the job?” Elias teases, shifting to stand up a little, one of his hands coming up to stroke his jaw. “Come on, Jon. We can have a little fun.” 

Jon slumps a bit, nodding into Elias’s palm helplessly. “A-alright...I suppose...” 

Best not to make a fuss, he decides, letting Elias’s hands trail over him. The last thing he wanted to do was upset his...

Well. He supposed Elias was his employer, now. 

What a prospect. He’d laugh, but there wasn’t really anything funny about it. Elias’s soft spot for him is what got him this position. He’s not stupid, he knows this is wrong, he knows this isn’t _fair_ , but what can he do about it? Really, he should be more grateful. Most people would kill to have his position, have fought tooth and nail through classes and studying and endless hours writing papers just to get a chance to—

—Elias suddenly _squeezes_ , making Jon aware of the fog entrapping his consciousness, but he can’t quite pinpoint what is being touched. He feels so disconnected from his body, the sensations of the outside world becoming a blur, and he reaches out to entangle his fingers in Elias’s hair for some form of anchor. 

If he’s being honest, he’s not sure he enjoys these intimate moments they have. He’s never liked sex, never been interested in it, so the first few times this has happened he’d forced himself to respond, returning Elias’s touches the way he’d thought he wanted him too. It had been oddly scary, in a way it really shouldn’t have been, and after every session Jon would lay down next to him and try to ignore the churning in his stomach. Sometimes he would cry, and Elias would pull him close and hold him, a reward for his obedience. 

Now he doesn’t really have to force himself, and he doesn’t really cry afterwards either, unless it hurt really badly. The movements come easily, almost subconsciously. In fact, he can barely feel it sometimes, like his body no longer a part of him. It’s...uncomfortable, but he doesn’t dare complain. He owes Elias so much, and really, Elias is all he has. He takes care of him, so if he wants him to...to... 

...then he will. Because that’s the least he can do. 

He doesn’t react as Elias starts to clean him up, other than to drop his fingers from his hair, barely registering the fact that it’s over. It’s not until his pants are being buttoned back up that he starts to recognize the room again, the sudden rush of sensation making him dizzy. He makes a whining noise from the back of his throat, reaching up and clinging to Elias’s arms. 

“You’re fine, Jon,” Elias condescends, shaking his head slightly. “You’re fine.” 

Jon nods, before lurching forward and tucking his trembling body into Elias’s chest. He doesn’t really _feel_ fine, but that’s...that’s normal. He clings tightly to the back of his jacket, craving the comfort of being held. 

Elias chuckles, not quite warmly. He wraps his arms around Jon in turn, lightly stroking the small of his back. 

“Jon. Come on now, we can’t stay like this forever,” he chides, even as his fingers trace odd patterns against his back. “We both have work we need to be doing.” 

“I-I know,” Jon chokes out, even as he clings tighter to Elias’s jacket. “J-just...please, a few minutes, please...” 

“I won’t have you be late to returning to work,” Elias says, clicking his tongue. “I told them I’d have you back in an hour.” 

Jon hiccups, nuzzling further into Elias’s chest. Elias sighs, kissing the top of his head and smoothing down his flyaway hairs. 

“Jon. Darling.” 

Jon stays there for a moment longer, before finally pulling away, staring down at the floor. He hiccups again, scrubbing at his eyes before tears can start falling. “S-sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Elias says, tilting Jon’s chin up and giving him a soft kiss on the lips. “But do get back to work now, alright?” 

Jon swallows, brushing his fingers over his lips, wiping at the vile taste left behind. “Okay,” he says quietly. 

He starts for the door before pausing, his fingers laid daintily on the doorknob. He meets Elias’s gaze, cold and stern, and he swallows back a lump in his throat. 

“I love you,” he says quietly. 

Elias smiles dully. “Jon.” 

“N-no, I know. I-I’ll go now,” he says, staring down at his feet. Still, he waits. 

Elias sighs heavily, and Jon feels bad for burdening him. “I love you too, Jon. Please get back down to the archives.” 

Jon nods, and he exits the room, heading back down the stairs to where his assistants are waiting. 

* * *

The rest of the day goes fairly smoothly, even if Jon feels kind of dizzy and disconnected for some reason. He thinks Sasha may notice his hazy state, but if she does, she doesn’t mention it. She really is so kind. 

He manages to stumble through the rest of the day with her guidance, occasionally interrupted by Martin bringing another round of tea to the three of them. A kind enough gesture, but one that makes Jon internally wince. The last thing he needs is this much liquid in his system, and he always feels guilty when Martin takes away a mug that’s half finished. 

He really hopes he doesn’t find it insulting. He does try to apologize, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth so it always comes out far too quiet, and then Sasha will give him a funny look and pat his shoulder to get his attention for the next task they’re going to work on. It’s a weird cycle, and Jon wishes he didn’t feel so cloudy. This is hard enough on Sasha as it is. 

It’s probably hard on Martin, too, come to think of it. He doesn’t see Tim for the rest of the day, but if he were around, it’d probably be as much of a pain on him. 

He’s relieved when five o’clock rolls around, and he almost leaves right away, fleeing for the safety of Elias’s car, the promise of home. But the clinking of the mugs Martin’s collecting brings him back to the present, and he realizes that would probably be rude. He doesn’t want to be rude. Elias doesn’t like it when he’s rude, and neither do his friends, and while his assistants don’t seem to be like his friends, he’s sure they’d have just as adverse a reaction. He doesn’t want that. They’ve been so nice to him, he doesn’t want to force their hand to punish him. 

...he’s their boss. So they can’t punish him, right? Can they? 

It’s best not to risk it, so despite every nerve in his body begging him to run off to Elias, he stays, hovering near the door awkwardly. Martin gives him a smile as he exits with the mugs, and Jon does his best to smile back, debating whether or not he should follow after him. 

“Hey,” Sasha says, thankfully drawing his attention away from the Martin dilemma. “You getting ready to go?” 

Jon clears his throat, and he nods, suddenly wanting to reach forward and cling to her arm again. He fights the urge, but it’s tempting. 

Sasha smiles softly, and she reaches over and gives his arm a gentle squeeze. “You did a good job today. I’m proud of you, Jon.” 

Jon’s eyes widen, and he looks up at her in surprise. “I—you are? Really?” 

“Yes, really!” Sasha says, laughing lightly. “You did excellent for someone who’s had literally _no_ experience in archival training before.” 

“W-well...that’s only because I was following your instructions...you were the one doing all the work, really…” Jon swallows, running his hand through his hair. “Thank you, by the way...I don’t know if I said it yet, but thank you…” 

“You’re welcome, Jon. It’s no trouble, really,” she says quietly. She shifts forward, but then she shakes her head, apparently changing her mind. 

Jon wonders what she’d been planning to do, but he decides not to ask, suddenly afraid of the answer. “U-um, okay,” he says meekly instead. 

Sasha’s eyes are so soft when she reaches over and squeezes his arm again. “I have to go home now,” she says, chuckling a little. “I have cats to feed and all that—” 

“You have cats?” Jon says, before clamping his hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry—” 

“Jon,” Sasha says, her voice warm. “It’s okay. Do you want to see them? I have pictures of them on my phone.” 

Jon gasps, completely unable to stop himself from flapping his hands in excitement. “Yes. Yes, yes, please, I wanna see, I wanna see!” 

Sasha’s smile widens, and she pulls out her phone, opening an album labeled _Cats_. She leans in to show him her screen, and he quickly scoots close to her, his cheek brushing up against the soft fabric of her pink cardigan. 

She shows him a picture of three cats, all resting in various poses on a windowsill. She points to the fat tortoiseshell cat, stretched out and taking up most of the space. 

“That,” she says, “is Maisy, my sweet old lady.” She points to the white cat with one green eye and one blue eye, looking at the camera with a thoughtful looking expression. “This is Alfred, he’s _quite_ the gentleman.” Then, she points to the small black cat curled up in between the two of them. “And that is Dusk, the baby of the family. She’s my sweet little angel, even if she’s a bit easily scared. She came from a bad home, poor thing.” 

Jon awws, bouncing on his heels a little. “They’re so cute…” he says quietly, laying his head lightly against Sasha’s shoulder. But then he remembers where he is, and he straightens back up, looking at her apologetically. 

“Thank you!” Sasha says, and she gives him a gentle pat on the back. “Do you wanna see more?” 

“Yes,” he says quickly, his eyes widening. It still amazes him that Sasha has been so...gentle with him. He knows he probably can’t count on it to stay this way forever, but in the moment, it’s nice. It’s really, really nice. 

Sasha chuckles, and she shows him more pictures in her album. There’s a picture of the cats all sleeping in a pile, a picture of Alfred licking Dusk’s ear, a picture of them all eating, a picture of Maisy with her paw over Dusk, holding her almost protectively… 

Jon stares at the screen in awe, taking in all of the cuteness. His cheeks hurt from smiling and awwing, and he can’t help bouncing and flapping his hands in delight. He’s so caught up in the pictures that he forgets that he has someone waiting for him until his phone buzzes with a text message. 

“O-oh. Let me…” he says, pulling it out and glancing at the screen. 

It’s a text from Elias, of course. _Where are you?_

Jon swallows thickly, and he looks up at Sasha apologetically. “I-I’m sorry, I...I think I have to…” 

“It’s okay!” Sasha says with a smile, putting her phone away and giving his shoulder a pat. “I should probably be getting home too. Dusk gets antsy when I’m away.” 

“O-okay,” he says, rocking on his heels. “Th-thank you for showing me your cats, I love all of them…” 

“Oh, you’re welcome!” she says, before humming thoughtfully. “Maybe one day you’ll get to meet them.” 

Jon’s mouth goes dry, and the backs of his eyes burn with tears. She’s so _nice_. “I’d love that,” he says quietly. 

Sasha smiles, and she adjusts her purse higher on her shoulder. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Have a good rest of the evening, Jon. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Y-you too! I-I’ll see you tomorrow…” he says faintly. They share one last smile, before Sasha heads out of the room. 

Jon stands there for a moment. Then, his phone buzzes again, and he looks down to see another text from Elias. _Meet me in my office, please._ He sucks in a breath, and he heads up the stairs. 

He runs into Martin on the way up there. Martin smiles at him and says, “Goodbye, Jon, have a good evening!”, and Jon nods quickly in response. 

“G-goodbye to you too, Martin,” he says, his face turning hot. He immediately kicks himself for not saying more, for sounding too terse, for the way his voice shakes. God, he’s grateful that he’s finally going home. Hopefully Elias will still be feeling amicable towards him, because then maybe he’ll let him curl up in his lap when he watches his evening television. 

Jon would like that. It would be nice to be held today. 

Despite the stern tone in his texts, Elias smiles when he enters his office, and that relieves some of the tension in Jon’s chest. Elias gets to his feet, and he comes around his desk to slip his arms around him and hold him close. 

“There you are,” he hums, and Jon melts against his chest. “There’s my darling Archivist.” 

“Hi,” Jon says quietly. He squeezes him tightly, nuzzling into his shirt. “We go home now?” 

His voice is tiny and childlike, and when he looks up at Elias’s face, his lips have twitched into an amused smile at the sound of it. Elias runs his fingers through his hair, tilting his head consideringly. 

“Yes, love,” he says simply. “We go home now.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *thinks about elias grooming jon into coming to him for comfort even when he’s the one who hurt him* *sobs*........................*inflicts that on all of you*
> 
> in other news the fact that we've been lingering on this one day is really stressing me out so thank GOD the next chapter is probably the last chapter that's gonna focus on it. hgnasdnfsdf.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Elias have a quiet night in. 
> 
> Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slams fists on desk* it's MY fic and I get to choose when to put in the bedwetting chapter 
> 
> ....jokes aside though there's bedwetting ahead. i feel like i should warn for that cuz it might be a squick for some people, lmao. also, warning for abuse/sexual abuse themes in general, if there's anything more specific y'all want me to put here, lemme know? idk i don't wanna catch anyone off guard with anything akdsfasjdfl 
> 
> ALSO can i just say. i love that the comments on the last chapter were essentially all "jon is baby" and "i'm gonna kill elias" i LOVE it. pls keep that energy up for the rest of the fic omg

The evening goes about as expected. Elias brings him home, and he even carries Jon into the house, a rare treat that he occasionally indulges him in. Jon loves being carried, and even with his age Elias is plenty strong enough to take him short distances. 

Elias cooks dinner for the two of them, and they eat in silence. Jon decides not to bring up anything else about his day. He knows better than to make the same mistake twice, after all, and Elias doesn’t seem too keen to talk at the moment anyway. 

After dinner is...well. 

“Elias?” Jon asks quietly, standing off to the side so that he’s not blocking his view of the television. 

Elias stares ahead, not even sparing him a glance. “Yes, dear?” he asks, his voice mildly inquisitive. 

Jon swallows thickly, shuffling his feet. He looks longingly at the couch, unsure if he’s allowed to approach it. “Y-you said I did good today?” 

Elias hums, giving him a cursory glance. “Did I?” 

“A-at lunch,” he says, his voice breaking. “Right?” 

Elias says nothing. He just hums again. 

Jon whimpers, unsure of what to do. Would it be wrong to ask him to hold him? Would Elias be upset with him if he did so? 

“Jon, love, just come out with it.” 

“I wanna sit with you!” Jon blurts out, and then he flushes with shame, covering his mouth with his hands. “S-sorry! I-I just...” 

Elias finally, _finally_ gives him a proper look. He sets his glass of wine down, and uncrosses and recrosses his legs. “Is this really what you’re interrupting my show for?” 

Jon stares down at his feet. “I’m sorry,” he says again quietly. 

Elias sighs heavily, and Jon’s heart sinks further into his stomach. He’s terrified to look up, but when he does, he finds Elias with his arms outstretched, beckoning him over. Jon shivers, taking slow, trembling steps closer. He doesn’t know what to expect when he reaches him. He doesn’t know how upset he’s gonna be. 

He finally makes it there after what feels like an eternity, and he stands in front of him with knees made of jello. He tries not to flinch as Elias puts his hands on his hips, his thumbs slipping under his shirt, rubbing little circles against his waist. 

“You want to sit with me?” he asks, his voice awfully gentle. 

“I...I wanna be held,” Jon admits quietly, clutching his hands to his chest. “I thought because I did good today, you would—you would be w-willing to—” 

He gasps as Elias’s hands suddenly _squeeze_ , and Jon briefly, hysterically wonders if human hands can break someone’s pelvis. It’s ridiculous, he sincerely doubts Elias would do that, at least not over something like _this_ , but, well, Jon’s brain is not exactly known for being rational. 

Elias hums again, and Jon looks at him with teary eyes. He shouldn’t be so scared, Elias hadn’t been squeezing _that_ hard, but he knows how much he’s asking of him. He knows that he’s interrupting his evening ritual, it’s just...the stresses of the day are catching up with him. He’s so desperate for any form of comfort that he’s willing to risk punishment to ask for it. He might even break down and beg, if it gets to that point. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter. “I-I just—” 

“It’s alright, darling,” Elias says, yanking him forward suddenly. “I suppose you _have_ earned a bit of a cuddle, haven’t you?” 

Jon tumbles, his hands reaching out for purchase. He catches Elias’s shoulders, and Elias drags him closer, lifting him by his hips like a ragdoll and draping him easily over his lap. Jon swallows thickly, and he turns into Elias’s chest, burying his face into the front of his shirt. 

“Oh god, thank you...thank you, thank you, thank you…” 

“If you’re going to stay here, you have to be quiet, you know,” Elias says, reaching for the remote and turning the television up. 

“Sorry,” Jon says softly. He nuzzles into Elias’s shoulder, his eyelids drooping shut. Exhaustion is finally starting to catch up with him, and Elias is very warm, his fingers gentle as they run through his hair. 

It won’t be too big of a deal if he rests his eyes, right? It’s just...it’s been a long day, and he needs to relax a little. He doesn’t think Elias will mind. It’s not like this is the first time he’s taken a nap against him. 

Yeah. He lets himself drift off, enveloped by the smell of Elias’s cologne.

* * *

_Hands. They’re crawling all over him, yanking his hair, gripping his throat, sliding under his shirt...stroking his thighs…_

_Jon’s chest heaves, even as fingers brush over his ribs. He wants to leave the chair. It’s hard and uncomfortable underneath him, but every time he tries to get up, the hands tug him back down, nails digging into his skin, rubbing at his—_

_He looks up, seeing the fancy food spread across the table in front of him, Elias staring down at him with blank eyes. He shivers, trying to reach out for him, but the hands grab his wrist and hold it tight._

_“Elias,” he cries, and the hands squeeze his throat tighter. “Please, I’m scared…”_

_“It’s alright, Jon.”_

_Jon swallows, his thighs trembling. The hands grow more persistent._

_“Daddy,” he chokes out. Somehow, it feels right. “Daddy, please!”_

_“It’s alright, Jon,” Elias says again, his voice gentle. “Just stay still and it’ll be over soon.”_

_Jon starts to cry. “Daddy,” he sobs, “Daddy it hurts!”_

_“It’s okay. You’re okay.”_

_Jon cries harder. The hands squeeze tighter, and Jon’s sight blots out. Wetness seeps out of his lower half, but he’s only vaguely aware of it as the terror washes over him._

_The hands close in on him. He screams, and he feels himself jolt._

* * *

He wakes up to wet cheeks and wet pajama pants. There are hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him, and he can’t stop the scream that rips through his throat, panic squeezing it out of his lungs. 

“Jon,” Elias’s voice hisses above him, and Jon’s eyes fly open to see him kneeling next to him, staring down at him with a frown. 

Jon whimpers, his eyes flickering open. “D—” he starts, before realization hits him, and he thinks better of it. Elias doesn’t like that name. “Elias…” 

He looks around at his surroundings. They’re no longer in the living room, so Elias must’ve taken him to bed at some point. He looks down at himself, and even though he can’t see it through the blanket, he can feel the damp mattress below him. 

A bundle of nerves leaps into his throat as he finally registers the situation. Oh _god_. 

Elias smiles tightly, and he gently pulls the comforter off of him. “I’m sure you’ve noticed this already, dear,” he says, “but you’ve wet.” 

Jon sits up shakily, wincing at his soaked pajama pants. Tears trail lazily down his cheeks, and he doesn’t attempt to wipe them away. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, flinching as Elias’s hand comes to brush a strand of hair behind his ear. “Please don’t be mad at me, I-I didn’t mean to…” 

Elias hums, his hand tracing down his jaw until he’s cupping his chin. He grips it tightly, his fingernails digging uncomfortably into his skin. “I know, Jon. And, well, I won’t say I’m mad. But I’m certainly not _happy_.” 

His grip tightens, and Jon inhales sharply. More tears stream down his cheeks, and he whimpers out another apology, barely audible through his hyperventilated breaths. 

“Yes,” Elias says softly. “I know. I know.” 

Jon takes a shaky breath in, trying to calm down. Elias said he wasn’t mad. But he looks mad. At least, Jon thinks he does. It’s hard to see in the dark and through his tears. 

Elias hums thoughtfully. “Jon, tell me, this won’t be a recurring... _inconvenience_ again, will it?” he asks, clicking his tongue. “I’d hate to have to go through that process all over again. You’ve been doing so well.” 

Oh god. Jon’s bottom lip trembles, and he shakes his head as best he can with Elias’s fingers still holding his jaw. “N-no! No, of course not, it won’t! I promise, Elias, please…” he says shakily, and it’s so difficult to stutter out the words. His jaw _hurts_ from Elias’s grip, and he sobs, squeezing his eyes shut. “I-I’m sure this is just...I’m sure it won’t happen again, I won’t let it...” 

“Hmm.” Elias’s thumb rubs against his bottom lip, and he sighs. “I just don’t want this issue to come between us again. Don’t you remember that? Wasn’t that terrible?” 

Jon shudders, and he nods. The last time he’d wet the bed regularly had been during the first weeks he and Elias were living together. That also had been around the first time Elias had...slept with him. An odd coincidence, perhaps. Jon chooses not to think about it too much. 

It had been a miserable time. Elias had been so irritable, dragging him off from doctor to doctor, desperate for a solution, only to be told again and again _There’s nothing we can do, sir. It’s not physical. Have you considered these prevention methods? Have you considered managing the problem? Have you considered therapy?_ Jon had tried to tell him over and over again that this was just something that happens sometimes, that whenever things got too stressful for him his body would react this way, but Elias wouldn’t have any of it. He’d just continue to look for a quick solution, and he’d continue to get more and more frustrated that there wasn’t one. 

It had taken a few tense, terrifying weeks, but eventually, the problem had gone away on its own. It had helped that near the end of it, Elias had started to warm up to him again, even helping him clean up in the mornings. Since then, Jon’s only wet the bed a handful of times over the years, and even though it’ll sometimes be for a few days in a row, it’d never been as bad as those weeks had been. 

But it still upsets Elias every time it happens. Jon knows how annoying it is for him to have to wash the sheets, to clean the mattress and let it dry out, and it doesn’t help that he won’t let him assist with the process. He’ll just mess it up, he tells him, every time Jon reaches forward to help. Maybe he’s right. Jon _is_ pretty clumsy. He’d probably just create a bigger mess. 

He whimpers again, parting his lips slightly to speak. Elias shushes him, slipping his thumb between his teeth. 

“No, no. I know. I’m just concerned, is all,” he says, his fingers loosening their grip slightly. “I know how hard starting a new job can be, and, well. I don’t want this to spiral into something...unmanageable.” 

Jon nods, or at least, tries to. He feels Elias’s thumb brush against his tongue, and he closes his lips and suckles on it softly. It’s always been an odd habit of his to have something in his mouth to chew or suck on, one he could never quite be broken from despite his grandmother’s attempts. He wonders if Elias is intentionally trying to comfort him this way, but then he sees the glint of amusement in his eyes and realizes he’s probably not. 

Elias doesn’t move his thumb away, though. Instead, he just chuckles. “You and your oral fixation,” he murmurs, an almost fond tint to his voice. His gaze flashes something sharper, something _hungry_ , and Jon nearly gags in recognition of what that look means. 

Fortunately, though, Elias doesn’t seem interested in that right now. He lets Jon sucks his thumb for a few moments longer, before drawing his hand away and moving to stand. 

“Well, we’ve sat in this mess long enough,” he says with a sigh. “Do get cleaned up, now, Jon, I’ll take care of the bed.” 

Jon nods, shakily getting to his feet. His thighs are sticky and gross from sitting in his own puddle for so long, and the idea of a shower sounds really nice right now. Granted, he’d much rather have a bath, but, well...he’s not sure that Elias would be willing to give him one. He doesn’t want to ask, either, he was already so greedy this evening. Besides, he was responsible for the mess in the first place. It just...wouldn’t be right on any account for him to make requests. 

He gathers up some clothes and stands in the doorway, his own thumb slipping into his mouth. He knows he should be off to the bathroom now, but the task feels oddly daunting. 

“Jon?” 

He looks up to see Elias staring at him sternly. Guilt sinks heavily into the pit of his stomach, and he pulls his thumb out of his mouth. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “And-and I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

He bats his eyelashes and brushes his fingers over his lips, and then he waits. He thinks Elias will understand what he means. 

Elias’s lips twitch into the smile that makes Jon’s stomach jump, and indeed, it seems he’s caught onto what he’s alluding to. Jon lets out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, and he smiles back weakly in relief. 

“Thank you, Jon,” Elias says, and there’s a light sigh to his voice. It makes Jon shiver. “I’ll meet you in the guest bedroom, then?” 

Jon doesn’t know why he says it like a question. That’s where they always go after he ruins their bed. It’s not a request. “Yeah,” he says quietly anyway. 

“Good. Good,” Elias says, his pleased smile never leaving. “Well, you should be off, then.” 

“Yeah,” Jon says again. He rocks on his heels for a moment, before turning around and heading to the bathroom. 

He takes the time scrubbing his skin to brace himself for what’s about to happen. He figures that Elias would want him to...do what he offered right away, and Jon’s fine with that. He doesn’t like being left in that kind of debt. It just makes things strained between them, and Jon can’t handle that kind of stress, especially not now. It’s hard enough to keep Elias happy as it is. 

He takes his time drying himself off. He stares at himself in the mirror, spending perhaps a bit longer than necessary playing with his own hair. Then, he takes a deep breath, and he exits the bathroom. 

He doesn’t bother dressing himself. He knows he doesn’t have to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that nightmare sequence is brought to you by me watching the "what kind of man" music video literally just. on repeat over and over again. someone send help i have a problem 
> 
> ON ANOTHER NOTE it's been brought to my attention that apparently everyone in the magnus archives knows less about archiving than previously assumed and it's been giving me a minor crisis about what to do with this fic?? it's ridiculous because it's literally the least important part of this story probably but haslfdijasdf. i blame jonny sims for this because if i accept responsibility i'll probably combust i feel so weird about it ahdflkasjdf 
> 
> anyway. this isn't me saying i'm abandoning this fic nor am i putting it on hiatus or anything (not that that would. mean anything. i kinda just update whenever lakjflkds) but good god do i feel embarrassed about it! :'D

**Author's Note:**

> finally remade my writing blog! check me out @[twi-writes](https://twi-writes.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> title (and the italicized part of the summary) is from "what kind of man" by florence + the machine.


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